


Hearts in All the Right Places

by ColorfulDolce



Series: And So On and So Forth [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Gen, Good Intentions, M/M, bless their hearts, enemies to acquaintances basically, hanzo "PTA mom" shimada, poor executions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 07:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12476652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulDolce/pseuds/ColorfulDolce
Summary: Now, Hanzo was not one who particularly enjoyed interacting with strangers; in fact, he found it to be exhausting, but this? This? They hadn’t even invited him! He was their colleague now, was he not? This was his first day here, was it not? He may have declined the offer anyways, but surely the proper thing to do to welcome a new teammate would be to at least give him the option of declining them!--Hanzo cannot stand the amount of disrespect that people in the resurging Overwatch treat him with, so he pays them back in kind.





	Hearts in All the Right Places

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise surprise, this one wasn't a prompt!! I will admit though, it was loosely inspired by this one post I had seen floating around on tumblr earlier this year. I can't for the life of me remember nor find it though.
> 
> Stay tuned for the alternate ending in the end notes, provided by my roommate who was sick and tired of me griping about writing this. Seriously, this took me a month to write: I started it on September 24th.
> 
> Beta'd by my fav boi: BaraFrance
> 
> ANYWAYS, enjoy.

Hanzo was not happy.

He sighed in annoyance as he worked to figure out the rusted knobs of Watchpoint: Gibraltar's broken down showers. Honestly, he was surprised they had running water, considering the amount of time this decrepit old facility had been left abandoned. Perhaps the gorilla was more invested in its upkeep than Hanzo had originally thought—although, judging by the current state of Hanzo’s bathroom and bedroom, he sincerely doubted that was the case. Perhaps the AI...no, it was _definitely_ the AI that had kept this facility running.

Finally, Hanzo managed to work the knobs so that neither would accidentally slip and cause the water to fluctuate while he was in the shower. About time.

As he entered the hot stream, he let his shoulders sag and breathed deeply. After so much deliberation, so much second guessing, he was finally here. Genji was unfathomably pleased to see him, and his gorilla friend— _Winston_ , he reminded himself—seemed glad to have another “agent” enlisted. Both had welcomed him with open arms, however...Hanzo did not feel quite welcome. Perhaps it was the way Winston’s smile was pulled too tightly to convey genuine excitement, or the way Genji’s embrace had seemed somewhat stiff, or the fact that there were other agents here as well that did not introduce themselves to Hanzo, or perhaps how every room they had passed seemed much nicer than Hanzo’s own—

Ah. He was overthinking again.

He frowned, hands pausing in his hair. He shouldn’t feel so put out about these things—he was, after all, still second-guessing his decision to come here. Perhaps those two had sensed that a part of him was ready to flee at a moment’s notice? Hanzo had _thought_ that he had concealed that desire fairly well, but perhaps all those years of isolation had taken a toll on his previous training. He stepped back into the water.

Whatever the case, it would be best if he made a good impression on the current occupants. He was, after all, seeking redemption...or at least attempting to.

By the time he finished, the water had begun to run cold. He made a note to discuss the sorry state of Gibraltar’s plumbing with Winston, or perhaps the AI would be a better choice? Was he being ungrateful? Did the others have a similar issue?

In any case, Hanzo decided it was best to put the issue out of his mind for now in favor of dressing and making himself dinner.

* * *

 

The mess hall was, surprisingly, empty. There was no clinking nor clattering of plates; it was blessedly silent. Hanzo vaguely wondered if the team ascribed to the Spanish way of living: sleeping during mid-day and eating late into the night. However, when he entered the kitchen, he was quickly proven wrong. Dirtied plates were piled high in the sink, their washing abandoned in lieu of some other, more enjoyable activity. The smell of saffron and various shellfish still clung to the air and nearly smothering the scent of coffee and freshly baked bread. Hanzo stood there at the entrance of the kitchen, confused, before he scowled and walked over to the refrigerator, opening it with more force than necessary.

They’d eaten without him!

Now, Hanzo was not one who particularly _enjoyed_ interacting with strangers; in fact, he found it to be exhausting, but this? _This?_ They hadn’t even invited him! He was their colleague now, was he not? This was his first day here, _was it not?_ He may have declined the offer anyways, but surely the proper thing to do to welcome a new teammate would be to at least give him the option of declining them!

Hanzo searched through the refrigerator, eyes glancing over packets upon packets of MRE’s and old-school TV-lunches only to land on a carefully packed tupperware containes filled with (quite frankly, _delicious_ looking) _paella_. He looked at the nearest one. A note on the lid read “ _For Angie! ♡_ ”

With a scoff, Hanzo took it out and placed it in the microwave.

* * *

 

“And lastly, here’s the practice range.”

Hanzo gazed upon the rows and rows of steel barriers and paper targets. It all seemed standard, although Hanzo did take note of the far wall: it appeared to have been modified into a firearm cabinet of sorts.

“I will take full advantage of this area, thank you.”

Winston nodded, “If you have anything else you’d, uh, like to see, just give me a call! Or Athena. She’s probably more well-suited for the uh...the entire tour guide thing.”

“Actually, Winston, I believe you are very adept at guiding tours. Agent Shimada certainly seems to have a firm grasp of the facility’s layout now,” a smooth, electronic voice stated from above. Hanzo resisted the urge to flinch. He still was not used to the seemingly omnipresent AI’s voice interjecting every so often, especially not after years of relatively constant silence. Nevertheless, he gave a slight nod.

“Again, I thank you for taking your time to show me around. You did not need to do that.” Winston gave a small (nervous? What did he have to be nervous about?) chuckle.

“It’s uh, no problem really. Part of the protocol actually. In fact I meant to do this yesterday when you arrived but it just...seemed to slip my mind?”

Oh.

“...Yes, of course. It happens to the best of us.” Hanzo turned away from Winston, examining the room once more before he gestured to the wall lined with various firearms. “Now, if you do not mind…”

Winston blinked, then nodded and left with a sheepish “Right, right.”

Once Hanzo was sure that Winston was out of hearing range, he let out an annoyed scoff.

“‘Part of the protocol.’ ‘Meant to do it yesterday.’ ‘Slipped my mind.’ At the very least he should make his excuses more specific,” he griped as he walked over to the weapons. He examined a few small handguns, trying to decide between the Colt M1911 or the Glock 18. After some deliberation, he picked up with Colt. It had been a while since he’d had the luxury of using a gun, best he reacquaint himself with a semi-automatic first.

Hanzo walked to the nearest booth, positioned himself, took aim—

“Angela was very upset when she found her leftovers had disappeared.”

—And completely missed his target. He put down the pistol and glared up at the ceiling.

“I did not know that these earmuffs were _selectively_ deafening,” he grumbled. Athena did not respond to him and instead continued her chastisement.

“Lena worked very hard to make the dish, and was very excited to share it with her teammates,” although Hanzo knew that she was upset, she hid it well, robotic voice maintaining its distinct neutrality, “She was also very saddened when she found out that Angela did not get to taste it.”

“Well perhaps if this _Lena_ had given more consideration to her _teammates_ , then there would not have been a problem,” Hanzo bit back. He picked up the handgun and shot at the target once more. This time he didn’t miss.

“Are we done?”

Athena said nothing, so Hanzo took that as a yes.

* * *

 

Slowly, throughout the week, Hanzo had started to run into the other inhabitants of Watchpoint: Gibraltar. He knew that there were six other operatives currently stationed here, and so far he had met five of them. For the most part, they all seemed very young: three of the women all appeared to be in their mid to late twenties. Of course there was Genji who was only a few years his junior and Winston who was...of some indiscernible age. He had no idea who the sixth operative was, and at this rate he did not _want_ to know.

Everyone at this base was incredibly _rude_.

If he thought that Winston had slighted him, he was horribly mistaken. Compared to the others, Winston was the most hospitable creature Hanzo had ever come across. At the very least Winston _respected_ him. When he first came across the three women, they were all huddled up in a rec lounge, sipping on hot chocolate and conversing. As soon as Hanzo appeared, they ceased speaking and stared at him—and he _knew_ they were staring, how could they not have been? He set his jaw, continued to cross the hall which had grown considerably longer than when he had entered it, and only relaxed once he was out of their sight.

Then he heard a whisper and _giggling._ Giggling! He had half a mind to walk back and demand to know what they thought was so amusing. However, he did not have the energy to deal with gossip and decided it was best if he went back to his room and forgot about the entire experience.

Oddly enough, he had run past a young girl from time to time, most likely in her late teens. He had nothing to say about her, who seemingly did not even realize he existed, eyes glued to her portable game as they were. He knew how teenagers were with their video games, after all Genji had been the same way. He did not find her slight nearly as offensive, but he did find it highly annoying and, despite himself, concerning. What was such a young girl doing here? Surely she wasn’t here to fight. Technical assistance, perhaps? Judging from the bags under her eyes, Hanzo assumed he was correct.

Still, it would do her well to put her game down and go for a walk.

Genji was…

Well, he was not _rude_ per say. In fact, Hanzo is surprised he was as involved with Hanzo as he was. He would not have blamed his brother if he decided that he wanted nothing more to do with Hanzo. To have Genji not only acknowledge him, but actively speak with him was an honor that Hanzo did not deserve. And yet…

Hanzo sighed, hefting up his laundry basket. There was palpable tension between he and his brother, words that were never exchanged. Really, they should sit down and talk about it, yet Hanzo could never bring himself to say anything. Perhaps that was simply how things were now. Perhaps this would be the extent of their reconciliation: a strange normalcy laden with tense embraces and chopped exchanges.

“How irksome,” he muttered out before heading towards the door.

All other members aside, the final, mystery agent of Overwatch irritated him most of all. He knew nothing about their demeanor, nor about their looks, but Hanzo already loathed them. There was no possible explanation for their complete absence from Hanzo’s presence except that they were purposefully going out of their way to avoid him. It was impressive, really, how much care was taken into their avoidance. Hanzo did not know a thing about them. No face, no name. The planning and reconnaissance that went into building a schedule based off of absolute avoidance was no small feat, and Hanzo hated them all the more for it. Maybe he was right in his self-doubt. Overwatch held nothing for him. Any chance for redemption here would be shut down either from the organization disbanding before it set off once more, or from his teammates’ antagonizations.

Hanzo sneered at the thought. Truly, there was nothing here for him. It would be better for him to pack his things and leave while his brother was none the wiser.

As he passed the mess hall, he could hear laughter emanating from it. Despite himself, he stopped and peeked through the small window on the door. Inside he could see the three women laughing together as they looked over the young girl’s shoulder. Genji, too, seemed to be in stitches. The girl, who he had learned was named Hana, however, was less than pleased, yelling angrily. Winston seemed to be the only one sympathetic to her plight, and gave her an apologetic smile along with a couple extra _gyoza_. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Really, he should be used to this.

Really, it was to be expected.

Really...

Hanzo pivoted and stormed away from the scene, charged towards his room, and nearly slammed his laundry down.

Not even _Genji_ had invited him!

* * *

 He tossed another emptied tupperware container in the sink. Was he being petty? Yes. Petulant, even? Also yes. However he may be acting, Hanzo could not stand by and allow _them_ to get the last laugh. He took out another tupperware of leftovers (this time, they were filled with the  _gyoza_ from earlier), opened it up, and emptied it into the trash. He carelessly tossed the plastic container into the sink.

Mei, Lena, Winston, _Genji that traitor_ , and that wretched _Angela’s_ meals were now in the garbage. Served them right.

When he pulled out the last container, however, he paused. Instead of a mere name, there was a small message written on this tupperware’s note.

“ _Hey McCree! I left you some _jiaozi_ for when you got back. Hope you like them! -Mei and Snowball_ ”

McCree.

The mysterious sixth agent.

This time, instead of taking off the lid and dumping the contents into the garbage, Hanzo tore off the lid and began to place all of its contents onto a plate, then placed the plate into the microwave. McCree deserved worse than just having their food thrown into the garbage.

Once the  _jiaozi_ were hot, he took them out and, despite his ire, took a careful bite so as to not burn himself.

Oh.

Oh they were _delectable._

The pork was delicious, the wrapper was fried to perfection, and the filling? The filling left his mind buzzing in a savory heaven. Hanzo had almost forgotten what proper  _jiaozi_ were like. When he finished he quickly inhaled another. He was so engrossed with them that he was completely caught off guard when a rugged voice came from his left.

“Now, I know that this here note don’t say Mei’s cooked up somethin’ real nice for me, and I know they sure ain’t them yummy lookin’ pot stickers you’re shovelin’ down your gullet, stranger. Because, if it does, and if they are, then we’ve got a couple’a problems on our hands.”

The man let out a hearty laugh when Hanzo choked, and proceeded to slap his back.

“Well would ya look at that? Instant Karma,” he watched in amusement, casually leaning on the counter as Hanzo composed himself. “Normally, I’d’ve given you the benefit of the doubt, seein’ as you’re new, but those fellas literally had my name on ‘em. Can’t be too hard to mess that up. Unless…”

His smile faded to something more less amused.

“...You  _wanted_ to get on my bad side.”

Hanzo busied himself with gathering the tupperware and taking it to the sink. He knew he should answer the man—should answer McCree—knew he should offer some form of explanation. He, however, found himself drawing a blank. He had never intended on actually being _caught_ , after all.

“I’m waitin’.”

Well, it appears as though he was not given the luxury of a choice. Hanzo sighed.

“I had...personal...reasons for doing so,” he chanced a glance behind him and saw McCree gesture him to continue. So he did, “It was...a way to pay back the disrespect you had given me.”

McCree blinked, and he stood up straight once more.

“Disre—Wh—I’m sorry, but I ain’t followin’. I just hardly met you and you’re already flingin’ accusations at me, _and_ you’re eatin’ my food to boot! If anything, Mister, it looks like you’re the one disrespectin’ _me_.”

Hanzo whirled around, then, frown on his face and hand tightened the kitchen sponge.

“I have been on base for an entire week and this is our first meeting. Does that not strike you as rude? In fact, I have received _no_ welcomes from anyone outside of your scientist, Winston, and his computerized assistant! Even _then_ , they are distant! Even my own _brother_ has been cold towards me! I walk by and suddenly everyone falls to a hush. The conversation stops only to start up again in laughter and gossip as soon as they believe I am gone! Does that not strike you as _rude_ ? Everyone has avoided me like a plague, but none more so than you! Now, here you are, accusing _me_ of poor behaviour. It is—it’s—It’s ridiculous!”

In his fit of anger, he threw the sponge at McCree, who narrowly dodged it. Hanzo watched as the sponge stuck itself to the wall, glued there for what felt like ages (although, it mustn’t have been more than a fraction of a second), then slowly, ever so slowly, peeled itself off and fell to the floor with a pitiful “plop.” And it was, indeed, pitiful. It was pitiful that it had clung to the wall for so long. That it was even _thrown_ in the first place.

Hanzo’s shoulders sagged.

“I...I apologize for my inappropriate behaviour. That outburst was uncalled for.”

He slowly walked over, suddenly tired gaze cast towards the floor as he picked up the sponge, then moved to place it back in the sink. He rested his hands on the sink’s edge, grip tightening as he felt McCree move closer. Out of the corner of his eye, Hanzo saw McCree’s hand reach out towards his shoulder, hesitate, and then draw back. He was not even worth the man’s pity, it seemed. How typical.

“Now hold up—”

“Save it,” Hanzo said, sharply cutting him off, “I do not need to hear you state your pity, nor your reprimanding, no matter how deserved it may be. It is best you not waste your time; I do not plan on remaining in this organization any longer.”

Hanzo pushed himself away from the sink, stood to his full height, and made his way out the door and towards his room.

McCree did nothing to stop him.

* * *

 The early morning chill had made its way into the base, despite its renovations, or perhaps the chill had only seeped into Hanzo’s room. At this point, he no longer doubted the idea that he was given the most neglected, least hospitable room. The others were more than likely enjoying the comforts of modern heating, thick blankets, and down pillows. No matter. He was sure a hotel will provide him the same.

He was not, however, sure that Athena would allow him to leave without informing his brother. As of yet, she had not seemed to have reported his packing to any other agents or personnel, but one could never be too sure. Still, it just went to show: this Overwatch would not last long; any underground group that let its members come and go as they please without any consequences, or without even any _knowledge_ that they were coming and going, was doomed to be discovered. It really was better to leave while he still could.

As Hanzo packed the last of his belongings (a package of incense sticks, hair ties, his personal toiletries), he surveyed the room once more. It was as barren as when he had first entered it, one week ago. Good. He had left nothing behind, then, ensuring that the room’s next occupant would be met with the same inhospitality as he himself was.

He swung the duffle bag over his shoulder, picked up his his suitcase, and walked out the door.

He did not get far, unfortunately.

“H-Hey, hold up a sec!”

Hanzo did not “hold up.” In fact, he rounded the corner so quickly his duffle bag swung about wildly. He went as far as to pick up his pace as well. He was _not_ going to deal with whatever that McCree wanted to say. He regretted even mentioning he was leaving to the man.

“Really, if you could just—All I want is two minutes! Two minutes to hear what I got to say and then if you don’t like it you can be goin’ on your way!!” Hanzo heard McCree’s heavy footsteps get closer, and, against his better judgement, he stopped, which caused McCree to run right into him.

“Two minutes,” he turned and gave McCree a sharp glare, “And then I will leave.”

McCree gave him a nod, took a step back and composed himself, then sighed.

“Look I...I’m sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. You seem real put out that nobody’s been treatin’ you like royalty or anythin’—although, come to think of it, that’s a bit of a silly reason to be mad— _I mean_...you’re real put out that no one’s even gone and said hello,” he quickly amended after he received another glare, “Anyways, no one said hello, invited you to dinner, gave you the time of day yadda yadda— _and_ I see how that’d make a fella feel a bit glum, or in your case: feel a mite bit unwelcomed. Thing is though, it ain’t really our fault.”

Hanzo scoffed and crossed his arms, “I find that difficult to believe.”

“No, really. Winston was all for lettin’ the girls throw you a bit of a welcome party, but your brother, Genji, told them that you weren’t really a people person. ‘My brother is a bit of an introvert,’ he said, ‘He does not care for, nor enjoy, having attention centered on him.’ He also went ahead and told everybody that you were gonna be prickly for a while and real easily spooked to boot. I know, ‘cuz he told me the same exact thing. They probably all thought it’d be best if they let you get used to the place first and then come to them on your own time, at your own pace. Although in hindsight, they probably could’ve stopped by and said a quick hi.”

Hanzo took a moment to digest McCree’s words. He had difficulty finding too much fault with what he said. It _was_ likely that Genji had said them; they seemed in character with the new man his brother had become. If Genji did say them, then it would explain why the others were to hesitant to approach Hanzo, especially considering that they all may very well have had worked with his brother in the past and would favor him over…

‘ _Over a complete_ _stranger,_ ’ he told himself, careful to steer his thoughts away from the darker, harsher truth. He was here to redeem himself, to better himself until he could be someone Genji could be proud of. If he did not believe he was capable of becoming that man, then how would he ever change?

Nevertheless, Hanzo was unsatisfied with that explanation.

“If what you are saying is true,” he began, slowly, carefully, “Then what of the hushed conversations? The laughter? My room accommodations? You cannot possibly tell me that Genji had said anything about that.”

McCree rubbed his chin, humming as he did so. Hanzo shifted his weight and tapped his finger against his arm. Finally, he saw McCree snap his fingers and let out a small “aha.”

“Most rooms here’ve got somethin’ off. Mei’s mattress is so old one of her springs’ve popped out. Lil Lady Lena’s door jams pretty often, but she’s got that fancy time thing goin’ on—not _completely_ sure how it works but it probably lets her pass through doors or somethin’. Heck, even _Winston’s_ room’s got problems. I think he may’ve mentioned rats in the walls,” he explained. Hanzo looked at the hallway wall in disgusted incredulity before he turned his look to McCree, uncomfortable with this newfound information. The man gave him a slightly amused grin, “It’s an old building.”

“Yes, but I would have expected even some _basic_ upkeep.”

McCree shrugged, “It’s old and it’s big. Can you really blame Winston for it? Poor guy’s got a lot on his mind, and Athena’s a doll, but she’s no maid. Anyways, like I was sayin’, can’t say much about the conversations, ‘sides maybe just the fact that you’re new and all; the girls tend to be a bit secretive around newbies. But, I _did_ hear some good gossip relatin’ to you the other day...”

He stopped, gave Hanzo a grin, and said nothing more until Hanzo impatiently motioned for him to go on, irritated by how much fun the other man appeared to be having at Hanzo’s expense.

“Alright, alright, no need to give me that glare, yeesh. Genji was right about you bein’ all prickly. Worse than a saguaro, I’m tellin’ ya.”

Hanzo, for his part, did not let up his glare. McCree rolled his eyes.

“You know, if you were a mite bit more friendly, then maybe I’d see why Mei’d think you’re cute. Guess it makes sense she’d like those frigid, cold types. The real mysterious boys. No wonder the girls’re all havin’ a grand old time gigglin’ at her. Bet she’ll change her mind soon as she sees how you act, Mr. Eats Others’ Food,” he said.

Hanzo scoffed, prepared to, once again, defend his actions, but stopped dead in his tracks. He blinked, slowly. He looked at McCree as his brain slowly processed that first sentence. He blinked again.

“Who—What—I am sorry, but I think I misheard you. _What_ exactly did you say just now?”

“You heard me.”

“No, I most certainly did not.”

“Yup, you most certainly did.”

Hanzo stared at McCree, dumbfounded.

McCree stared back, amused.

Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Perhaps I should...attempt to be somewhat less, what did you call it? ‘Prickly?’ Dispel the mystery before it goes any farther.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Hanzo sighed heavily before he straightened up and looked at McCree once more. There was still one last thing…

“How on earth have you managed to avoid me for so long?” he asked, frowning. “Even _if_ Genji had requested that of you all, by all means I should have seen you in passing.”

“Oh? You didn't know? I just got here.”

Hanzo frowned, “No, you have been here. Winston informed me that there were currently six other agents within overwatch aside from myself. I have seen five. You are the sixth.”

“What? Who haven’t you seen? I just accepted recall a couple days ago back in Houston,” McCree said, eyes furrowed. “I’m the eight member now, right after you.”

Now it was Hanzo’s turn to furrow his brows. McCree had only accepted the recall two days ago? That made no sense. Winston had told him that there were six other agents when he had first joined, four days before. He heard McCree click his tongue before the man turned up towards the ceiling.

“Athena? Doll? Could you tell us the current roster?”

“Certainly, Agent McCree. Currently, the agent roster is: Angela Ziegler, Genji Shimada, Hana Song, Hanzo Shimada,” Hanzo saw McCree’s eyes quickly flick over to him, “Jesse McCree, Lena Oxton, Mei-Ling Zhou, Winston. There have been no other agents added since Agent McCree,” Athena responded smoothly. McCree frowned.

“Aint ever heard of no ‘Hana’...” he muttered. “Athena, could you tell me more about that Hana? She new?”

“Hana Song, age nineteen,” McCree let out a low whistle as Hanzo’s eyes widened, “Originally an international e-sports star, actress, and MEKA captain for the South Korean Mobile Exo-force in Busan, South Korea. She joined very recently, outside of the original recall roster. She stated that she had first heard rumors of Overwatch’s revival on online game forums, but did not realize they were true until Agent Ziegler arrived to heal the injured in Agent Song’s company while representing a private philanthropy organization. Agent Song is a smart girl. She realized that someone as iconic as Agent Ziegler, clad in her valkyrie suit, would not abstain from mentioning the name of the organization unless it was to be kept secret. After some convincing, Agent Ziegler agreed to allow Agent Song to join once Agent Song had completed her assignment and found a suitable replacement.”

McCree tsked.

“Shoulda sent someone a lil’ less…”

“Iconic?” Hanzo provided.

“I was gonna say ‘over-the-top,’ but let's go with that. Thanks Athena.”

“With pleasure, Agent McCree.”

She spoke no more, and neither did McCree. Hanzo took this moment of silence to process this new information. A nineteen-year-old agent...that meant that the girl he had previously mistaken for a laboratory technician was actually an agent…

He did not know how he felt about that.

He did, however, know how he felt about this entire situation.

“I...believe I owe you an apology,” he admitted, despite his reluctance to actually issue one.

“Mhmm. Glad we’re on the same page here Mr. Shimada.”

Hanzo frowned, but set his shoulders. He was an adult, and despite what he would like to think, he _had_ been in the wrong.

“I apologize for accusing you of behaving rudely and for therefore treating you in the same manner. I am sure that you will receive even better  _jiaozi_ in the future.”

McCree nodded, “Uh-huh. And how about for the others?”

“The others have been here all week and, despite what Genji had told them, should have had the decency or at the very least had the basic amount of common sense to greet me properly, if with more caution or restraint than they would have done otherwise,” Hanzo deadpanned, “Thus, every action I have taken against them was deserved. My only regret is that I had endured it for as long as I did.”

McCree laughed, startling Hanzo, but before he could ask what was so funny, the man shook his head.

“Boy, you Shimadas are meaner than a stray dog fighting for table scraps.”

All Hanzo could do was stare at him, dumbfounded, which only caused McCree let out another laugh.

“Right, well, since we got off on the wrong foot, let’s start over. Hey there, Stranger. Name’s Jesse McCree, you can go ahead and call me by my callsign...McCree” he said with a chuckle, as if laughing as if he had just told a joke, hand outstretched. Hanzo hoped McCree wasn’t; it was a very poor joke, whatever it was. Hesitantly, Hanzo shook it.

“Shimada Hanzo. I would prefer it if you addressed me by my last name or as ‘Agent Shimada.’”

“How’s Mr. Shimada sound to you?”

“...Suitable, I suppose.”

McCree smiled, “Well, it’s good to meet you, Mr. Shimada. I hope we can get along.”

“Likewise.”

He watched as McCree tipped his hat before the man walked passed him and continued on down the hall. Hanzo took that as his cue to leave.

“Oh, and word of advice,” McCree drawled out, just before Hanzo managed to turn the corner, “Try bein’ a bit more friendly, bit more hospitable. I’d like to have someone trustworthy and helpful who I know won’t go around eatin’ my leftovers whenever he’s throwin’ a fit. Last agent was a pretty big jerk, eatin’ all my pot stickers and throwin’ away the rest. Won’t tell nobody ‘bout it, though.”

“...Thank you.”

With that, Hanzo returned to his room, set his things down, and began to unpack.

**Author's Note:**

> it's listed as Gen and M/M because this is their first meeting  
> I'm always taking more prompts to weave into this series!!
> 
> if you have anymore mchanzo prompts hmu: http://scarbordoe-fair.tumblr.com  
> or if you want more artsy stuff: http://scarbordoefair.tumblr.com
> 
> \--
> 
> BONUS ALTERNATE ENDING BROUGHT TO YOU BY MY DEAREST ROOMMATE:
> 
> Hanzo frowned, “No, you have been here. Winston informed me that there were currently seven members chillin here at the base and I have met yall but you wont talk to me bc of my rude attitude which btw I will not change.”
> 
> McCree laughed and nodded, “That’s fair man, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Let’s be friends bc you look like the kind of person who has nothing good to say about anyone.”
> 
> “Yea ok I’ll think about it,” Hanzo replied, “I limit myself to only one friend at a time so tell the others I hate them.”
> 
> “Lolool, yessir,” McCree said. And then they were friends, at least until Hanzo decided he needed some new gossip bud. 
> 
> The End. El Fin. Nothing more. This is how their story ends. No one died surprisingly.


End file.
